


A Sheltering Ray Shines Through

by ParadifeLoft



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Valinor politics, a lone Turgon at a party inevitably attracts a bored Curufin looking to bother him, the Statute of Finwe and Miriel must have lead to some interesting political theory discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 05:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadifeLoft/pseuds/ParadifeLoft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curufin prods at Turgon as though it were his day job. Turgon is less than pleased with both his presence and his slights against his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sheltering Ray Shines Through

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt/request by Kate ([AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zimra)/[tumblr](http://kaywinnet.tumblr.com)), who wanted to see Turgon and Curufin interacting in Valinor.
> 
> In terms of timelines, I imagine this taking place somewhere relatively shortly after Melkor is released from his imprisonment - Turgon, Finrod, Curufin, and company are adults, but relatively young adults.
> 
> Some headcanon-universe bonus information: the people arguing over politics that Curufin discusses, the Tatyar loyalists and Ainamarwen's family (name made up simply for ease of reference), are roughly the same (sorts of) people as Hyellindë's family and [Edrahil's family](http://zaataronpita.tumblr.com/post/51173314076/if-you-want-to-could-you-post-about-your-headcanons), respectively.

If the many and varied sounds of near as the entire number of noble families of the Noldor drinking and talking and laughing did not unsettle Turukáno - who had ducked away from the noise too soon after arriving, who had not greeted nearly enough people the way his father would have wanted him to - then the sight of Curufinwë strolling through the wrought arched doorway into the same room as him would manage easily enough. Here was one time, he thought bitterly, almost instantly, when he would not have minded his cousin monopolising Findaráto's attentions -

"I saw you over by the pond the other day," Curufinwë announced, by way of greeting. And then, as though he'd been invited, he slid down onto the plush sofa that Turukáno had until then been sharing only with a book. A thick tome on loremasters' use of rhetoric in constructing the histories of the Eldar - and things of a similar nature had earned him mockery before, but he still counted them better company than this particular cousin. Who had, apparently, also been _spying_ on him.

"Írisse spoke as though nobody else ever went to that pond," Turukáno said, and he knew how overly defensive it sounded just as soon as he'd said it. But once more, it seemed he hadn't been able to help himself blurting out unwise words, just as he couldn't help his eyes narrowing and his back stiffening when Curufinwë had sat down. He refused to look over at him, at least, setting his gaze directly at his book instead as he marked the page and set it down closed on top of the small table in front of him.

But from the corner of his eye, Curufinwë only seemed calm as ever, giving that careless little gesture of his. A wave of his hand and a slight cocking of his head, that the other lords' daughters thought was attractive and Turukáno thought made him look like an ass.

" _Relatively_ speaking," he replied, and Turukáno was unsure whether the quirk of Curufinwë's lips was into a mild smile or a smirk. It probably didn't matter. "Tyelko showed it to Írisse one of the times he took her out hunting."

And that was it, wasn't it, that he (his family) couldn't have anything of his own without Fëanáro's sons getting their hands all over it, if not upon finding him with it then before it had even been a thought crossing his mind.

His face must have fallen then; that or it had happened enough on prior occasions that Curufinwë could guess (absolutely sure of the guess's correctness, even without true evidence) what he now felt.

Curufinwë's eyes were bright. "Apologies for intruding, if it was something you wished to be private," he murmured. It was nothing of the sort.

Turukáno might have denied it, but it would save him no face before one such as his cousin; and more than that it would likely prove instead all the justification that Curufinwë would need to somehow manage to show up at the pond whenever he himself wished to spend time there. (Possibly by himself; possibly with a retinue of brothers and cousins and other lords' children who would, good-naturedly, oh so obliviously, invite Turukáno in to join them.)

Still on edge, he nonetheless leaned back against the cushions, approximating a casual if distant pose. Perhaps Elenwë would soon tire of getting to know every member of the Noldorin nobility and come to find him. He could hope. Vainly.

"I heard Nolofinwë speaking with Ainamarwen about some of the Tatyarin loyalists," Curufinwë said, conversationally, (as though his conversation was desired), after several moments of silence that were, if not blissful, at least more pleasant than those that followed only to be eaten up by the low sound of his cousin's voice.

Curufinwë took a sip of wine afterward, from the goblet in the very hand of the arm he'd slung over the top of the sofa cushion to lean against. Apparently he'd gotten over his cautiousness with the stuff that he'd developed and tried to hide equally suddenly after the one feast.

Turukáno would not have minded terribly if he'd drunk enough to loosen his tongue into pronouncing something entirely stupid while he himself was not so impaired, even if it was not strictly fair.

"And what do you want me to think he was telling her," he replied, not bothering to hide the hint of impatience. "`Oh no, please don't let your family join them in calling for my disinheritance?'"

That only made Curufinwë laugh softly and smile to himself, swirling his wine around the goblet. "Of course not," he said. "From what I could hear, Ainamarwen was complaining to him about a petition at court to redistribute any wealth found to be created from holdings brought along on the Great Journey, to compensate families whose some members became Avari and took a portion of their wealth with them."

"That's absurd," Turukáno scoffed all but immediately, wrinkling his nose.

Curufinwë raised an eyebrow, and he determinedly shoved away the sudden feeling that he was acting foolishly even when that was exactly opposite his intent. "What, no desire to increase the wealth and power of anybody who mislikes the Valar?" his cousin asked with a smirk.

"As if that were the half of it," countered Turukáno. Was it so difficult for Curufinwë to simply _leave him alone_ , instead of engaging in such incessant taunting? Had he not grown _bored_ of it, at some point in the last century? "These are the same people who wanted Grandfather's kingship removed for his remarrying, _cousin_ , and that would have removed _Fëanáro's_ inheritance just as well as ours."

(He wouldn't have normally referred to his uncle in such a manner, but perhaps it was uncomfortably fresh in his mind.)

"Not necessarily. Atar would still be son of the Noldor's _queen_ , would he not?"

Turukáno bristled. He knew he was being baited. He was _always_ being baited. "Not with Grandfather Finwë's kingship revoked."

And his cousin was calm as usual, a smirk dancing in his eyes as usual. "But does Grandmother's status come from her marriage, or from the choice of the Noldor? As does Grandfather's kingship? Míriel Therindë was Queen of the Noldor, _chosen_ by the Noldor…"

Despite what his cousin said, Turukáno was no simpleton. He knew what was being implied. (Clearly, he mused in the back of his mind, Curufinwë must not have actually believed his taunts then either, if he would make such implications.) Abruptly, he stood, gathering his book to him - a mild surprise to Curufinwë as well, if the slight movement of his brows was any indication. "Yes, chosen by the Noldor. As Grandfather was. And _Grandfather_ chooses to honour the decisions of the Valar, which is _why_ we are even all here to begin with. So in having Grandfather as our king, we choose the Valar's leadership; and that makes you and Fëanáro and the Tatyar all _hypocrites_."

He couldn't claim now not to be somewhat fuming, but that was better, he supposed, than simply sitting and taking whatever abuse Curufinwë wished to serve him, if he could not weave through his verbal barbs with the dignified calm of his father or his uncle or Findaráto.

"Is all you can do, repeat the arguments of your father and his betters?" Curufinwë asked him, several moments later. And his voice was colder and sharper, and Turukáno could find some pride in that, that he'd managed to cut through his cousin's snide, layered clouds of rhetoric and reduce him to what were clearly personal attacks in lieu of arguments.

Turukáno gave him his best haughty look, meeting Curufinwë's gaze up at him from where he still sat on the couch. "If an argument is good then why not repeat it." And a moment later, thinking of how Curufinwë almost obsessively mimicked his own father - "Though not all _repeated_ arguments are _good_ ones."

Curufinwë raised an eyebrow but did not seem as though he was about to reply in the next few moments. So Turukáno inclined his head politely, and turned to leave - it felt good, didn't it, leaving of his own accord from a position of strength, instead of being pushed out of a space or forced to endure it for the sake of his own pride.

There was a bit of a startling waiting for him as he approached the arched lattices of the entrance to the room though, as his quick pace nearly sent him hurtling straight into the figure of his betrothed. He jumped, and Elenwë jumped, and then laughed as she recovered, and he heard a less pleasant echo of the sound from Curufinwë behind him as well. It seemed easy enough to ignore this time though.

"There was enough of a lull that I supposed I might come find you sooner," she greeted him brightly, brushing a hand against his arm.

Turukáno gazed over her head, into the main hall where people still seemed cheerful and noisy as ever. A small lie, for his own sake, he supposed.

"I had actually been thinking I might greet some of the other lords with you," he said then, and for once the nervousness that accompanied such decisions was diminished, as though sleeping quietly behind other thoughts. "Did you still have any left?"

Elenwë smiled, and he took her hand, and they walked back toward the hall.


End file.
